Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere
by Concealed Eminence
Summary: -Red vs Blue- Corey was on his way home, when he found a strange blue shard--a fragment of the Forerunner Crystal. However, this strange find ended up transporting him to Blood Gulch! A new character among old friends, how will he get back home? R&R!
1. A Suspicious Shard

**[Author's note: Amazing! A new fanfiction! Claps and more claps! Yay!**

**So, this is the recreation of _Freedom! '90_ which is on my profile page, only with a plot! So read! Yay!**

**(At the bottom is a list of people I need to thank for this fic. If you care, which you should, go read that _after_ you finish the chapter and review!)**

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Chapter I  
A Suspicious Shard

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The Forerunner Crystal. It was an object of power, of mystique; it was something that both sides of the war were after. Beneath the stronghold of Reach, it was found under fire by the UNSC's greatest mind and it's greatest hero, Doctor Halsey and Master Chief. Rather than let it fall into the hands of the Covenant it was destroyed; the glittering dust and shards were lost to the nothingness of slipspace. The crystal bended reality itself and if one could harness it's power, they could transport themselves through time and space— an object that would turn the tide of war in someone's favor, permanently.

Although its precious pieces were lost, both sides struggled to find even the tiniest shard. One was already possessed by the Covanent, an alliance of alien races bound by religious fervor and bent on the genocide of all who disagreed.

The search went on.

One thing neither party could do, however, was travel back in time where one shard had landed—in the year 2009.

: - - - :

On a street, a long yellow school bus turned right toward a small grouped-together neighborhood just outside the edge of down. Inside was a young boy of around sixteen sat on a seat near the front. He had headphones and was readying himself for hopping off the bus. When the bus finally stopped, he got up but f0und himself blocked by someone's leg.

"Excuse me," he said impatiently.

"Why? Did you fart?" the annoying kid with a bowl-cut asked.

The older one glared and kicked the legs aside forcefully making his way off the bus. As he walked down the aisle he turned and stepped down the first step, only to slip and stumble forward, twisting around to try and grab something. Unfortunately, there was nothing to grab.

"Whaa!" A shout of surprise was heard as the teenage boy fell backwards from a school bus, landing on green grass that lined the road.

"You alright?" the female bus-driver asked cautiously, having to nearly shout over the combination of screaming and laughing High- and Middle-school-ers.

"Yeah," Corey grumbled, stood up angrily and put his black satchel in its place on his shoulder. He promptly ignored the bus driver's second comment, turning to pick up the binder and notebook that had landed behind him and served as a very uncomfortable half-cushion. The bus drove on, receiving another glare from the young man thoroughly annoyed at the pain in his backside and the obnoxiously loud bus engine.

Corey slipped his headphones into his ears, hoping to be able to drown out his bad mood with some loud pop music. He looked up to the sky; it was May, but today was rather cloudy. It was what made Washington State so attractive, near-constant rain and clouds. Corey, unlike most people he knew enjoyed the clouds and rain. Yes, Washington was the perfect place for him. He always considered himself a cold person—he preferred iced coffee over hot coffee on most occasions and would sooner eat some ice cream then a warm slice of pie.

After all of his school things were situated, his bag on his shoulder and the binder and notebook tucked under his arm, Corey strolled the pavement toward his home. The ground was quickly changed when he turned onto the gravel road that led home but something caused him to stop dead in his tracks. Corey paused, looking wide-eyed at the significant hole that was now occupying about ten square feet on the left side of the road.

"There's a hole in my road," he said in stunned disbelief. The crater was smoking and Corey simply stood at its edge gaping and staring at it. There was no one around so Corey was alone and being his curious self decided he should investigate.

Corey let his stuff fall to the ground and walked forward into the hole. It only barely came up to the middle of his calves and planted in the center was a small blue shimmering shard that was no bigger than his index finger. Since the blue was such a contrast to the rock around it, it was the first thing that caught Corey's eye.

His first thought was that it was very beautiful, and the second was of how peculiar it looked. It almost had a glow to it, as if it were phosphorescent. He slipped it into his pocket, deciding Why not keep it?

Looking around, Corey was pondering where his hole came from. It was black and scorched, so maybe it was a crater? Maybe the stone in his pocket was an alien artifact! Maybe a new type of gem he could sell for millions! Or maybe it was a government conspiracy from Area 51!

Yes, Corey decided, That must be it! Or, maybe it was from Big Foot. Corey toyed with the endless possibilities on the way home.

When he reached the gray and white mobile home that sat near the end of the road, Corey was plotting how to tell his mother about this extraordinary find and potential riches. He pulled it out of his pocket and examined it some more, admiring it.

He set his stuff down by the door. He could hear his mother's sewing machine from her room—it was her job and hobby so she spent a lot of time in that room. Not that Corey minded because he still saw her every morning when she dropped him off at school and at dinner. He sauntered into the room which was in the hall next to the kitchen.

"So," he said, leaning on the side of the door; it was his usual spot when greeting his mother. "There was a large hole in the road today."

His mother looked up from her quilter, now curious. "What?"

"Yeah. It was like, huge!" Corey motioned with his hands.

"Well, how did it get there?"

"Don't know. But I think it's a government conspiracy or an alien crater or Big Foot!" Corey chattered quickly like he normally did when he was excited. He pulled out his shard to show her.

"Wow," she said, standing and crossing to look at the shard closer. "What do you think it is?"

"Not sure, but I don't think it's dangerous." Corey said, peering at it. "It's not like it'll transport me onto a different planet or the future or something."

: - - - :

In a place called Blood Gulch, the Blue Base was all in a huff about a strange new object found out near the empty shell of a tank that was once Sheila. Well it was mostly in a huff, but most members just didn't care. Inside they stood around the table, looking at the sapphire shard that Caboose was holding in his fingers and grinning at.

"It's so pretty!" he said, grinning on.

"Yes, Caboose. You've said that already." Tucker said, rolling his eyes.

"Question is, what is it?" Church inquired.

"It's so pretty!" Caboose said again.

"Shut up, Caboose!" Church and Tucker both said simultaneously.

There was a small pause in which the five Blue team members stood around the table.

"It looks like it might be a gem!" Sister declated, examining it closely.

"No shit." Church mumbled.

"I bet it would make a kickass ring, though!" Sister continued, snatching it from a now devastated Caboose and setting it on her finger.

"It could've come from space. There aren't any gems like that around here. Not even in the caves," decided Doc.

"Well, whatever." Church said, "I don't really give a fuck. I'll be in my room."

With that Church left, leaving the other four Blue members standing without conversation. Sister tossed the shard on the table and trailed after him. Soon the not-so-crowded crowd dissipated into a one-man crowd, but since the one man left was Caboose it was more of one half-man crowd.

"It's so pretty." Caboose mumbled again.

: - - - :

Corey sat down at the computer, the blue shard that was now his new favorite item sat comfortably in his pocket. Corey switched the monitor on, plugged his headphones into the speaker. His fingers tapped the keyboard, opening a special little site called YouTube where he began watching videos of his favorite machinima, Red vs Blue. It was the last five episodes he was watching – 0f course he had watched them all before, but what was the harm in watching them again? It was after all, one of his favorite past times.

As he started to watch the first episode, Corey took out the shard and set it in front of the computer. As he watched the screen the shard's reflections of helmets and weaponry glinted off its facets. He barely noticed the faint light in its sapphire depths.

The last episode ended and Corey grinned. He closed the internet window as the computer's built-in clock read '10:00 PM': definitely time to head to bed. He switched the computer monitor off and picked up the shard, along with his phone and headed down the hall behind him and into his bedroom.

Corey yawned and sat down on the bed. He plugged in his phone to its charger and set the blue shard next to it before switching off the light and crawled into bed. He was on his side pondering his life when he looked up at the crystal. It was giving off a soft blue light around the room.

"Wow," he mumbled, staring at the artifact. After a few seconds he decided he was too tired to really care, rolled over and soon fell asleep.

A few hours of sleep was all he got until a loud vibration filled the room and he jerked awake. Corey instantly believed it to be his cell-phone, that someone was actually texting him at one o'clock on a Saturday morning!

"Who dares," he mumbled angrily, rolling over. It wasn't even his phone, it was the shard! That was when he realized he didn't just hear the vibration, but he felt it. It was vibrating down his desk, through the floor and in the bed, jarring his body. He stopped, wide-eyed and frightened at what was happening. The shard was glowing and shaking violently. It pulsed, burning brighter and brighter until all Corey could do was shield his eyes against the final blazing flash of cyan.

: - - - :

Just as soon as the light had come, it was gone. Corey found himself curled up, eyes closed, shaking from fright more than the vibration of the shard. After a few seconds and deciding it was safe he opened his eyes. It was pitch black but when he saw the crystal it somehow made him feel better, even if its radiance had faded to a weak smoldering shine.

Corey sat up, swinging his legs to the cold floor and flinched, expecting—or what it hoping?—for the carpet of his bedroom. He looked around and reached again for the crystal which sat on a table covered in something that felt to him like paper. He tried squinting, using the crystal's feeble light to see. He walked around the table and pawed the dark in front of him trying to find a wall. When his hands met something solid he was surprised to find it was the same material as the floor.

What the..? Was he in an alien ship somewhere in space, or a government facility? Or maybe Big Foot's cave high in the Arkansas mountains?!

Sweat began to bead on his forehead as panic set in. He didn't know where he was so that meant he didn't know how to get home. There had to be a light switch somewhere around here! Corey looked frantically but he couldn't see! He groped around along the wall until he finally found the switch. He flicked it on and fluorescent lighting buzzed to life. Corey couldn't contain a small sigh of relief at some sign of technology. That ruled out the Big Foot cave…unless Big Foot was smart.

Letting his eyes adjust, Corey could see he was in a large round room. On one side was a three-seated couch that was dark red in color. It was where Corey realized he was sitting earlier, and in front of it was a coffee table covered in papers and food wrappers. The place was rather messy. There were two more chairs on either side of the couch and a bookcase on the far side of the wall. Then there were two doorways at different ends of the room, one next to Corey and one opposite the couch. One led down a dark hallway and the other next to Corey led to a kitchen-like area.

"Crap," Corey whispered awkwardly. He walked around a bit, searching, trying to see what the rest place looked like. He snuck down the hall, lined by four closed doors and at the end a walk in closet swinging on its hinge. Inside was the usual, towels and laundry type items. The washer and dryer looked old and rustic, like they haven't been used in a few months… or years. He flicked on a light in the hall and fluorescent lights popped on above him. There was another door wide open leading to a large bathroom area.

"Hold it right there," a voice growled behind him.

_Chikt chikt._

Corey turned to the noise only to meet with the barrel of a shot-gun.

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**So, here are the people who I need to thank! Thank you, everyone! *begins to read the list***

**RvB Freelancer Tex!  
*cheer! clap! amazingness!*  
Her fanfiction, _The Wish of Red vs Blue_, was the original and main inspiration for _Freedom! '90_, and _Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere_. Basically, her character, Ariana, ends up in Blood Gulch, and awesome stuff happens. It's a great fic, and it's a good way to pass the time when you want a big Blood Gulch experience and there aren't any more of those videos to watch! I highly recommend it, and you will find it in my Favorite Stories list. Yaay RvB Freelancer Tex! *clapclapclap***

**Bushtuckapenguin!  
*more cheering and clapping!*  
Okay. Where would I be without this person? Probably still working on _Freedom! '90_ without any sort of particular direction or plot, which, even Red vs Blue has a plot. *wink* She's also my Beta-reader, and has been amazing so far. She's done a lot of contributing, even so much that I've probably distracted her from her own RvB fic that she's working on. So, I should pro'lly quit talking to her and let her get working on it, huh? Hehe. *more clapping***

**Last, but not least:  
raaz, Senri Shiki Fan, Iron-Mantis, Kaioo, ShadedUmbreon, and RvBlover- Agent Sparks.  
Honestly, without these guys and the two mentioned above, I wouldn't have bothered to keep up with these fics. I mean, holy crap! 24 reviews?! That's freaking amazing compared to my other stories which I only get about...4 reviews at max for. Thank you SO much, everyone! I hope you all come back for this time around!!**


	2. The Red Team

**[Author's note: Gah! Sorry for the late late entry, but I finally have it done! As well, I've got some of the third chapter done and I'm gonna work on it tonight if I get time. Good news, it's the summer, which means more time! Yay! Joy! So, hopefully, that means more chapters sooner and less time in between. So...here we go.  
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Chapter II  
The Red Team

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It was just past midnight and the soldiers of Red Base were sleeping silently in their rooms. Sarge was snoring soundly, Grif was grunting in his sleep like an ape, Simmons didn't make so much as a rustle in his bed, Donut was mumbling something about thongs in his sleep, and Lopez was in the kitchen plugged into the wall like always. All the curtains were drawn, all the doors closed to preserve the darkness that they rarely saw in Blood Gulch.

The Red Base was rudely awakened when an earthquake rocked the building to its foundations. Each member shot upright in their beds when this rumble flew through the ground—there was a loud, castrati-like scream from the pink soldier when a cyan light flashed through the entire base, illuminating the main rec room, shining brightly under the soldier's doors. Then, silence—there was nothing but the darkness left, the members stayed in their room, listening. They didn't know what to think or what to do; all they knew is that everything was hopefully back to normal. But…was it?

Seen through the cracks of the doors, the lights from the rec room blinked on. Each soldier tensed, knowing that there was someone—or something—inside the base besides themselves. Naturally Sarge was the first to act: he stood quickly and grabbed the rifle that was leaning next to his bed. He crossed the small room in three large strides and he leaned on the wall next to his door, ready to spring out. Then, just as the hall lights illuminated him through the door, Sarge was ready to make his move. He eased the door as the intruder passed, and that was when Sarge sprang into action and leapt from the room.

"Hold it right there!" he barked in his gruff, Southern accent.

_Chikt, Chikt._

Sarge cocked his rifle and pointed it at the intruder to the Red Base. The man was momentarily surprised to see that the enemy was short, at least half a head shorter than him, maybe more; even more confusing was how the short enemy actually looked frightened, of all things. Despite this, Sarge regained his composure in a matter of milliseconds, and was ready to fire.

"Simmons!" Sarge shouted, waiting for his right hand to pop out of his room. Seconds later, Dick Simmons appeared in the doorway, his brown hair in a large tangled mess, a robotic hand scratching his scalp. He was flustered and cranky-looking, like most people when they were rudely awakened.

"Yes, sir?" Simmons asked drowsily.

"Simmons, what do you make of this?" Sarge asked, jerking the gun barrel to motion at the young boy.

It was in that moment that Grif came out in his white tank-top and orange polka-dot boxers, annoyed at being woken up. The boy stood frozen on the spot with his hands thrust up in the air, hoping not to get shot. It was obvious that he was not only confused, but frightened out of his wits—one minute he was in his bed, the next he was in a strange cement place with a gun in his face, something that obviously didn't happen to him every day.

"What the fuck is going on out here?" Grif asked, shifting his gaze to Corey, who was still holding his hands up in surrender, still staring at the gun barrel at his face. "Oh, I'm going back to bed."

"It's a minor, sir," Simmons finally replied once Grif had shut his door.

"A whut?"

"A minor," Simmons repeated. That was when Donut came out of his hole; he popped his head out first peering warily around his door. His blond hair was long and obnoxiously in the way of most of his face. He pushed it out of the way and stared at Sarge and Simmons before looking to Corey.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, deciding it was safe when he saw the teenage boy. "Hi!" Donut said rather cheerily walking out to stand next to the boy and offer a hand-shake.

Corey looked wide-eyed to Donut, and then back to Sarge and Simmons and then back to Donut.

"Um… Hi?" he said nervously. Corey then slowly and cautiously lowered his hands to shake Donut's hand awkwardly, but Sarge violently thrust the gun forward and the young boy instinctively shoved them back into the air.

"I bet he's a blue!" Sarge shouted suddenly, as if realizing something completely obvious. "A spy!"

"Sir, he's thirteen," Simmons concluded frankly.

"I'm…sixteen," Corey responded tentatively to Simmons, but quickly quieted himself when Sarge thrust the gun forward again.

"Speak again and die, Blue!" Sarge shouted thrusting his gun forward again. Corey jumped back a little with a small gasp of fear.

"Sarge? I don't think he's a Blue," Donut said looking at the teenager and then back to his commanding officer. "He's a little young to be in the army."

"He must be a blue! It makes perfect sense!" Sarge said triumphantly.

"It does?"

"Yes! He came in a flash of blue light! That must mean he's a blue! If he wasn't, the flash would be red!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Corey protested, raising his voice in panic and trying to keep himself from getting shot.

It didn't work, however; Sarge simply glared for half a second and fired a shot, but luckily the man was so consumed with his rant over the newcomer that he entirely missed. Corey screeched, ducked under Sarge's flailing shotgun and jumped behind Simmons, who jerked around in surprise.

"Fuck!" Grif's own panicked squeal echoed down the hall from his room.

"Simmons!" Sarge said, whirling around and aiming his gun toward Corey again. "Move over so I can shoot the Blue!"

"No, Simmons, don't move!" Corey shouted back, cowering behind the taller man, closing his eyes and covering his head to not get shot.

Turning back to Sarge, Simmons said, "Sir, I don't think we should shoot the kid," This caused a gasp from Donut. Simmons disagreeing with Sarge was like Grif eating vegetables. It never happened at Red Base, let alone for a person they've never met!

"Wait, what was that?" Suddenly, Grif stalked from his room again. "What did I just hear? Who the hell are you and what did you do with the real Simmons?"

Corey was amazed by the sudden blank look that had appeared on Sarge's face. "…Does he always do that?" Corey asked, looking around Simmons cautiously, wondering if he might get shot.

"I think he must've busted a fuse," Grif said, looking at Sarge and then back at Simmons. "Your disagreeing with him was probably the final thing to make his head finally snap. Probably will be there for the next few weeks or so trying to figure out what happened."

"Okay," Corey trailed off, visibly shaking from the shock of nearly getting a bullet slammed forcefully through his gut, "What the hell is going on here?"

Corey looked from each member of the Red Team, and that's when it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. Simmons… Grif… Sarge… and Donut… Red vs Blue!

"Wait a minute," Corey began speaking aloud, to no one in particular. "Red vs Blue!"

The Red team stared at him like he was crazy, which to them he was. You would think someone was crazy if they just randomly started shouting 'Red vs Blue' at you too.

"Red vs Blue! How am I in Red vs Blue!?" Corey began his rant quickly, not really caring about the others, beginning to pace back and forth behind Simmons, "It doesn't exist, does it? Well, obviously it does if I'm here, but what if this is just a dream?"

"What the fuck is he talking about?" Grif asked, looking to the other two members of his team who were staring at the kid pacing. Sarge still had that stunned look on his face.

"—Quick, someone pinch me!" Corey said, thrusting his arm out towards Simmons.

Simmons stared at the kid, back to Grif and Donut, and then switched his gaze back to the teenager. "Who the hell are you and how did you get here?"

"Uh…" Corey stopped and thought for a moment, and at the moment, his name escaped him. He was too overcome with shock at where he was to think about things like a name! There was a small pause, and he wasn't sure what to think, until he was reminded. "Oh, my name is Corey…and I don't…know."

Corey stopped and stared at the floor, and then looked at the shard that was still in his hand. "This brought me!" he declared, showing it. "One minute I was in my bed at home, and the next I was here getting shot at by that guy…is he going to be okay, by the way?" Corey asked, pointing to Sarge.

"Yeah, he should be," Simmons said looking back, "He'll just stand there and soon enough he'll come around and—"

"Simmons!" Sarge suddenly shouted, lifting up his rifle to point back at Corey causing the boy to cringe at the sudden movement. "Help me kill the Blue spy!"

"I'm not a Blue!" Corey insisted.

"Yes you are! It's a conspiracy! The Blues used their age-defying ray of Blue to take one of their members and reduce their age and then transport the now young member to our base to infiltrate us and slowly take us down from the inside out!"

"…that doesn't make any sense," Corey responded to Sarge's theory.

"That's just what a Blue would say!" Sarge shouted in triumph—to him, his logic was undeniable!

"I'm not a Blue!" Corey nervously shouted. Stepping back to cower behind Simmons again, hoping that Sarge wouldn't shoot him through Simmons. That would be bad.

"Sarge," Simmons started, "Maybe we should let the kid stay—"

"—No!—"

"—for a couple"

"—No!—"

"—days.."

"—No!"

"Sarge, if worse comes to worse, we can always shoot the kid anyway," Grif reasoned.

"What?!" Corey shouted, "I'd rather not get shot!"

Sarge glared about at his soldiers, it was apparent he didn't want to let this new teenager person to be alive in their base, let alone stay with them for a few days. "…NO!"

Sarge proceeded to fire his gun wildly. Corey jumped and squealed in fear as he spun around and kicked off from where he was hiding behind Simmons. The young teenager bolted into a sprint and ran straight down the hall and slid around the corner that led into the kitchen.

"Quick, men!" Sarge shouted, running after the teenager, "He's gettin' away!"

Corey scrambled around the corner and around the table, tripping over the chairs and landing in a corner by the door to the outside. Sarge came running into the kitchen, gun blazing as a lick of flame leapt from the barrel. Corey looked around quickly and tried jerking the door open. As the heavy metal panel in the wall opened up light flooded into the room, blinding those in it. Corey did his best to ignore the light and dived through the door, scurrying up the ramp to the top of the base.

"Lopez! Quick, activate and get your ass over here!" Sarge shouted, shielding his squinting eyes from the light, "We have a Blue to destroy!!"

"Si?" Lopez inquired, quickly popping up behind the Sergeant. Sarge instructed his robotic companion to follow him up the ramp after the teenage intruder that so rudely popped into their base. Though the organic one of the two was the first to go through the door, he was the last to reach the top of the base—Lopez was a robot and therefore unaffected by the blinding sunlight. He naturally took the lead.

When Corey's eyes finally adjusted as he reached the top of the base, he turned to see a brown-clad soldier charging up shooting aimlessly toward him, followed closely by Sarge who, as well, was shooting. Corey shouted again and dived out of the way, landing somewhere near the ramp that led to the ground of the base.

"Die, Blue!" Sarge shouted loudly, firing his rifle aimlessly.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

"Shit!" Corey shouted as he dived forward, rolling head-first down the ramp and landing in a cloud of dust on the sandy ground of Blood Gulch. Corey then, in his momentum turned himself to land and crawl to the outside of the base, sitting in the dirt awkwardly, as he hid from Sarge.

"Sarge, wait!" Donut shouted, running up the ramp to the top of the base, followed soon by Simmons and Grif. Both were staggering as they tried to shrug off sleep, wondering why they were even giving a fuck about this random kid. "You don't want to kill him!"

"Yes I do!" Sarge argued, stalking slowly down the ramp, followed by Lopez. "Lopez, let's take him out."

"No!" Corey protested from behind the corner. The young teenager was sitting, back against the wall and hugging his knees, shoving his head down between them to somewhat protect himself from the bullets, not that losing his legs would do anything remotely helpful to his future.

"Sarge, No!" scolded Donut, as if he were talking to a misbehaved child, "No! Bad Sarge!"

"Shaddap, princess." Sarge grumbled, turning to the pink solder, preparing to order the soldiers back into the base. He looked back to Lopez, who had also stopped next to him.

"Sarge, I think Donut is right," Simmons piped up, "We shouldn't shoot the kid."

"Besides,"Grif said, shrugging, "If we need to we can shoot him later."

"What!?" Corey shouted, popping his head around the corner of the base. He soon shrunk back when Sarge fired another bullet toward him with another shout of 'die!'

"Sarge—think about it," Simmons reasoned, crossing the length between him and Sarge and squeezing between Lopez and his commanding officer, "We could use him for our own use, we can threaten him. It's like… using the Blue's member against them."

Sarge thought this idea over a bit, before snapping his fingers in triumph. "I have a better idea! We can use him for our own use by threatening him to help us against the Blues!"

"Anciano estúpido," [Stupid old man,] Lopez's monotonous voice mused, his helmet shooting Sarge a glare, or at least as much as a glare a Spanish robot without a face can muster.

"Hey, Shorty! Get out here! I won' shoot ya." Sarge said, turning back to the corner of the wall.

Corey didn't listen.

"I said come out!" Sarge said again.

Still no answer.

"Come out or I'll shoot you!" Sarge yelled.

"Okay, Okay!" Corey finally said, standing up and warily walking out, scratching his head, "What do you want?"

"You're gonna stay with us, Shorty—and no trouble, or you die!" Sarge rambled, "You're gonna help us with the devil Blues!"

"…Shorty?" Corey asked skeptically, unsure of the strange nick-name that Sarge had given him.

"…and if you try anything, I'll shoot you where you stand!" Sarge finished. "Alright, Dirtbags! Back to sleep!" Sarge announced striding back toward the base proudly. Lopez muttered another obscenity toward Sarge in Spanish, before stiffly following him back into the dark base.  
Grif followed Sarge soon after, leaving Corey to stare at Donut and Simmons. "Um…" Corey said before the two could head into their base,

"Where do I go?"

"Well…" Simmons mumbled, "All the rooms are full…"

"You can bunk with me!" Donut gasped, "It'll be just like a slumber party!"

"Um.." Before Corey could get a word in edgewise, Donut had grabbed his wrist and dragged him down into the base at a half run toward Donut's bedroom. Passing through the kitchen, the rec room and then into the hall, Corey nearly found himself tripping from the constant running over the objects that scattered the base.

"Alright!" Donut said, as they entered his room, "We'll need blankets and pillows and then some games would be good too, and…"

Donut began a long ramble about pointless things that Corey obviously didn't understand. Instead, he leaned against a wall as Donut tossed things randomly out of the closet, things including blankets and pillows, and a few board games.

"Yeah." Corey mumbled once Donut had finished, "So…mind explaining a few things to me?"

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	3. Training in Armor

**[Author's note: Eeew. Long wait. Sorry, guys. Slow. Editing takes time and all that crap. Hopefully I'll have Chapter 4 written soon.  
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Chapter III  
Training in Armor

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Corey woke up slowly. It started out as groggy, incoherent thoughts that soon formed into open eyes and actual ideas. The room was dark, Corey first realized. Really dark. The sun probably hadn't even risen yet so Corey's eyes drooped as he fell back asleep. Soon the events of the night before flooded back into his brain, but like most groggy people he disregarded it as a dream. 

What a dream it was though! He dreamt he was in Red vs Blue, and it was such a vivid and realistic vision! He got shot at by Sarge and said hi to Donut! There was even a musical number!

Wait, no that was a different dream. That was the one with the clowns wearing sausage vests, but back to the Red vs Blue dream! It was so amazing! Corey couldn't help but muster up a smile in his half-awake state.

The only abnormal thing about this dream was that nothing odd happened. Usually in dreams the beginning is spectacular but then something pointless happens like the appearance of famous pop stars or the mysterious disappearance of clothing. Then as the grogginess wore off Corey pondered that maybe it wasn't a dream after all.

The teenager's eyes fluttered open as that realization came over him. It wasn't a dream at all! Corey's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and despite his previous glee at the thought of being in a machinima he was praying to see his room around him. Instead he saw a pair of blue eyes staring down at him.

"Oh shit!" Corey shouted, thrusting his arm up to smack the eyes with a sudden spike of adrenaline.

"Aahh!" Donut shouted in alarm at the sudden smack in the face. Corey shot upward sitting up in the messy tangle of sheets.

"Oh," Corey mumbled, rubbing his eye with the ball of his hand as the adrenaline wore off. "Sorry, Donut."

"N'yeah…" Donut groaned, touching the side of his face tenderly with his fingers, "No problem, Shorty. It happens."

Corey paused for a minute. That's right, the people here called him Shorty. He didn't know why but he supposed Shorty was just what he was going to have to roll with. He stood up, shooting a sheepish glance at Donut as he did so. Donut gave an understanding grin and left the room.

: - - - :

"Where are they?" growled Sarge, checking his wrist for a watch that wasn't really there. "Hurr."

Sarge moaned impatiently. He and Simmons were sitting at the table in the kitchen already in full armor minus their helmets, listening aimlessly to the clock ticking away on the wall. The room was filled with the normal dusty scent of the base, hiding just a small whiff of sweat, which was mostly masked by the fruity perfumes that usually drifted from Donut's room.

"I think they're still asleep, sir!" Simmons offered.

"Excellent surveillance, Simmons."

"Thank you, sir,"

Simmons and Sarge remained in silence as Sarge continued his frustrated moaning. It was five am! Nearly six! The soldiers should be up and moving, not lazing about! It was during the silent rage of Sarge's that Donut and Shorty came wandering into the rec room. Donut passed into the kitchen, the bounce in his step just bordering on feminine, contrasting greatly with Shorty's shy shuffle.

"Good morning!" Donut mused to his fellow Red soldiers, none of whom answered. Shorty mustered a small wave to the other two. The young teenager stood by the doorway, hands folded behind him, back to the wall, keeping his gaze fixated on Sarge just in case the Sergeant might pull out a gun and start shooting again.

"Men!" Sarge announced, but soon paused, looking about. "Where's Grif?"

"Who cares, sir?" Simmons suggested hopefully.

"Hrm. Right!" Sarge agreed, nodding to Simmons and then turning his head to the other soldiers. "Go get in yer armor! We have things we need to do!"

"Yes sir!" Donut said, prancing back down the hall to change. There was a short silence where Sarge simply stared at Shorty, waiting for him to leave. Shorty waited trying to avoid eye contact but Sarge continued to stare sharply at the younger soldier, ignoring his cringing.

"Um…" Shorty said, shifting uncomfortably and resisting the urge to leap up and scurry away like a frightened rodent."I don't have any armor."

Sarge stared at the newest addition to the Red team and grunted. He called out for Donut who appeared next toShorty in full armor with his helmet tucked under his arm. "Go get Shorty here some armor," Sarge commanded.

"'Kay, sir." Donut said, motioning for Shorty who was quick to get out of the same room as Sarge.

"Amagad," Shorty said, a strange quick way of saying 'oh my god,' it was something he often said when surprised, "That Sarge guy is freaking creepy!"

"He can be sometimes," Donut said, grinning nonchalantly. He led Shorty, still walking with a spring in his step and a bounce in his britches to a small, out of the way room the younger one hadn't noticed before, mostly because it was a closet inside the bathroom. It was a large walk-in closet full of random boxes.

"This is our storage," Donut explained, "It used to be Lopez's hang out but he came back to us as a dismembered head so he didn't need it anymore. Sarge got him a new body a few weeks ago from old Warthog parts and other things that we found around the base, but he still prefers using the kitchen as his room. Go figure. He probably eats all the food when we're asleep or something!"

Shorty pondered the fact that robots don't actually eat as Donut scanned the boxes and pulled one down that said 'Donut!' with a hearts and flowers colored on its surface. Donut grinned at his decorated box and dragged it into his room, Shorty in pursuit.

"This was my old armor," Donut said, opening the box, "Before command gave me this lightish red armor."

"Isn't it pink?" Shorty asked looking at the armor.

"It's not pink," Donut said impatiently as if he had to explain this millions of times before. "It's lightish red."

"Okay then," Shorty responded deciding to let the conversation drop. He instead looked down to his new armor, it was once as red as Sarge's armor but by now it had faded to a color that was not unlike Donut's, except maybe a little more pale in color with a few more scuffs and dings from age.

"So, would this be pink?" Shorty asked skeptically, picking up a bracer and sliding his arm into it, eyeing it suspiciously, and then comparing it to Donut's armor.

"No!" Donut said unconvincingly, "It's really more of a pale, um, salmon color. Yeah, salmon!"

"Salmon," Shorty responded awkwardly, "Alright. Well, I'll change into it then to see how it fits."

Shorty stood up and picked up the black under-armor shirt, tossing it onto Donut's bed. He was about to take his shirt off when he realized that there was still someone present in the room. He looked over to Donut who was still on the floor.

"Um, alone," added Shorty.

"Oh! Right," he said, standing up and quickly shutting the door behind him. Shorty let out a sigh of relief and began to change into the armor. He had never liked full-body suits, preferring shirts and pants. He grimaced, shrugging into the black matte. It was soft but just a little stiff from lack of use.

Nothing that a little breaking in won't fix, he decided, moving on to the standard armor. It was weird. It kind of clung to the matte with airlock things. He clicked it and it sucked onto the black suit. It wasn't uncomfortable, just a little heavy. Soon he was completely decked out in the… salmon armor. Shorty swept back his hair and tried to adjust his helmet.

"You can come in now," Shorty called.

"Hey!" Donut said as he popped in, "You got it on! Awesome."

"Yeah, how do you get this helmet to work? My hair keeps getting in the way,"

Donut 'hmmm'-ed and walked over to his dresser. "I have just the thing!" he said, pulling out a bejeweled barrette.

"Umm," Shorty drawled, looking at the painfully feminine item Donut offered to him.

Donut used his own hand to push Shorty's hair up, and clipped the barrette to the teenager's head to hold his hair back. "There we go!"

Shorty reached up awkwardly and felt the thing stuck in his blond locks. He'd never worn a hair accessory in his life, especially not those coming from the guy wearing pink armor. He decided to ignore the thought and slipped his helmet on. "Oh, that works." He admitted.

"Yep!" Donut said proudly, "I have a large set of them in my dresser that I like using. Great help, huh?"

"Yeah," Shorty looked around through the visor in his helmet. He could see a compass in it and a few other stat type things that he didn't understand. There was a radio too that spoke right into his ear which caused him to jump in surprise.

"Dirtbags!" the voice called. "Hurry up and get in the kitchen already!"

"Oh. Yes, sir," Shorty mumbled into the radio. He then looked to Donut, "Sarge wants us."

The two went into the kitchen when Grif finally appeared wearing his orange armor. Sarge and Simmons looked up from their plotting as Donut and Shorty came into the room.

"Wow," Grif sneered, "Another pink-armored solder. Great, you two could be twins."

"It's not pink!" Donut and Shorty both insisted in unison. They glanced at each other awkwardly as Grif gave a just slightly triumphant smirk. Shorty continued, "It's, really more of… salmon, really."

"Right, salmon." Grif said, the smirk still plastered, "Just another shade of pink."

"Well, it's not like—" Shorty started.

"Alright!" Sarge interrupted, "We have things we need to do, men. We need to prepare for the impending attack of the Blues!"

"Impending attack? What impending attack? They've been locked in their base for the past few weeks," Grif replied, "Not that I mind."

"They're Blues! They're only in there plotting their impending attack that will catch us off guard! They're sneaky devils,"

"Of course they are, sir!" Simmons added helpfully.

"So, I've devised us a training course!" Sarge said, "Come on! You men have got training to do."

"Training?" asked Shorty unhappily, "What sort of training?"

Sarge ignored him and left the base, followed closely by Simmons and Donut. Shorty followed, with Grif behind him, he went to the top of the base.

: - - - :

The training course Sarge had devised was an interesting one. It wrapped around the base once and had multiple obstacles from crudely crafted stick-targets and holes in the ground. Lopez was even sitting in the gunner position of the Warthog, ready and waiting. Shorty stared out at this and couldn't help but let out a frightened whimper.

"Incredible, isn't it?!" Sarge crowed proudly as the soldiers gathered at the end of the base's ramp to the ground, "It starts with a few holes yeh need to jump over with some Blue soldier models yeh need to shoot down in order to pass. Then yeh pass some large rocks where yeh have to dodge a million bullets from Lopez, who will be actin' as a Blue soldier. Last you have to dodge rocks and Lopez runnin' through with a pistol an' yeh have to dodge him and shoot him down—without damagin' him of course."

"How do we not damage him if we have to shoot him?" Shorty asked.

"Don't ask questions!" Sarge snapped, "Now, get ready, Simmons! You're up!"

Simmons glared slightly before stepping up to the starting line. He sighed and looked at the course, the nervous sweat beginning to bead on his brow. Shorty watched with a strange mixture of horror and sympathetic pain as Simmons ran forward, jumping over the pot-holes and scrambling over the random metallic hunks that Sarge had somehow acquired and placed on the obstacle course. Simmons grunted angrily as he tripped and fell forward, face into the dirt.

"Come on, Simmons!" Sarge urged his favorite soldier on.

Simmons grunted in determination as he jumped from his position and fired his gun several shots, taking out a makeshift Blue soldier. He needed to look better than the others, and he knew he would. Grif was lazy and would just walk through the course, Shorty was a newbie and would probably get shot, and Donut, well, he would probably try to tell the obstacles a joke so they would move out of the way. Simmons was different! He was better and he was going to prove it to Sarge!

Jumping forward to avoid Lopez's bullets, Simmons ducked behind a large rock. He closed his eyes and thinking for a moment as the rock vibrated under the constant barrage of bullets on the other side. His eyes flashed open and dived forward, hitting the side of the base, side stepping behind rock after rock until finally he made it to the finish line and he stood, panting and grinning broadly from behind his helmet.

"Good job Simmons!" Sarge cried.

"Thank you… sir!" Simmons panted, waving over to the other soldiers.

"Alright Shorty," Sarge said, turning to the newest soldier.

"W-What?" Shorty stammered. The young teenager was white as a sheet with fear, and after seeing what Simmons had gone through, he was afraid he would get shot. "I can't do that! I mean, I can't run and dodge bullets, I'll get shot! What if I die or I trip and hit my head, and what if I—"

"GO!" Sarge shouted and pushed Shorty forward. He didn't have much of a choice afterwards then to keep running. Clumsily putting on his helmet, Shorty ran forward at full speed, leaping awkwardly over the holes in the ground. They were hard to see through the visor, and though he was only halfway through the course he was determined to get in and out as quick as he could.

Shorty stopped short when he finally reached a rock he could hide behind. His chest was heaving up and down from the physical exertion and though it wasn't much, his adrenaline was pumping! He could vaguely hear voices beyond the ear-splitting sound of bullets striking stone.

"Shit," he breathed quickly, looking down to the next rock. It was only about ten feet, he could make it! He could make it. Turning to face it, Shorty got down on one knee to get a better kick off to run through the bullets that Lopez would soon shoot toward him.

Breathing harder still, Shorty prepared himself for the run. Without thinking too much about it, Shorty ran forward. It started as a full sprint, and he could feel the bullets hit the sand and shoot up the soil around him.

Closer and closer, the boulder was nearly within his reach and he could leap for it. Things seemed to slow to a crawl as the bullets and the sound faded from Shorty's head as he focused on his goal. He hurtled through the air, gliding parallel to the ground for a split second but a split second was all that was needed to halt his momentum.

Just as his outstretched arms and head had made their way behind the boulder, a rough, sharp pain stabbed through his pelvis and rocked down his legs. A stray bullet had made its way to his thigh and the force of the blow thrust his legs backward, in turn causing his torso to fly forward, his head painfully slamming into the boulder.

Everything blurred as he rolled across the dirt like a broken doll but he never felt a thing. His vision swirled as he vaguely felt the throbbing in his side. Blinking slightly, Shorty slowly closed his eyes and slipped out of consciousness.

**

* * *

**


	4. Grunting in Pain

**[Author's note: Gah. Yay life, distracting me. No update since when...August?! Hoh, crap! . Anyway, FINALLY finished Chapter Four. Now the plot really begins to pick up! Wooo!**

**

* * *

******

Chapter IV  
Grunting in Pain

* * *

"What do you see?" Tucker asked.

Church glared at the teal soldier from behind the sniper's scope. For all the Blue Team knew Church was a ghost possessing the body of a robot so all Tucker could see was that a cobalt suit facing his direction.

"They're still just talking," Church said impatiently. He returned to his view of the Red Base through the sniper scope. Church and Tucker were both sitting atop their base, spying on the Reds. Their enemy seems to have gotten a new team member but there was no ship to bring this mystery soldier to the Gulch. Naturally, Church and Tucker came out for a closer look. They didn't need the Reds to come at them with an advantage.

The day was like any other and the sun beat down on the Gulch like an African summer. The two soldiers were decked out in full armor, though Tucker had his helmet removed. Church, being his robotic self, had no choice of whether his helmet was off or not.

"What about the new girl?" Tucker asked.

"What new girl?" Church responded, after a minute of thought.

"The one you saw earlier with the pink armor."

"I thought we established that he was a guy?"

"No, the other pink one."

"Oh. I think that's a guy too."

"What? Damn, I was hoping for a chick!"

"You can always fuck Sister."

"She gets boring after a while," Tucker mumbled slightly disappointed. Church stared at the teal soldier a second longer ending the conversation by turning back into the scope.

"I mean," Tucker continued, "She never does anything normal. Like, it's all about new positions and toys..."

"Whoa, whoa! Tucker, shut up!" Church shouted quickly, looking up from the sniper rifle. "The last thing I want to hear is about your sex life! I'm your commanding officer, not your bar buddy!"

"Well, technically you're not my commanding officer, so..."

"Shut up, Tucker." Church peered down the scope to see that the two Red soldiers had left to go inside their base. He sighed and lifted the sniper rifle up, setting its butt on the concrete of the base and resting the barrel by his shoulder. Gazing around he wondered what the hell was going on. This new kid just came out of nowhere. How? They would've heard a ship if it came. It's like he just appeared. Out of thin air! How the hell does that happen?

Frustrated, Church shifted on the concrete so that he was sitting in a more comfortable position.

"CHURCH!"

Church didn't bother to look up, he knew it was Caboose; the most annoying thing in the canyon. He rolled his robotic eyes, not wanting to deal with Caboose's stupidity today. It had started out to be such a nice day! Caboose had wandered away to explore the caves he'd hoped he'd be gone the entire day.

"Look what I found!" Caboose shouted, "Can I keep him?!"

Church and Tucker looked up to see Caboose carrying in his arms a strange, small, struggling creature.

"What the fuck?" Tucker said, standing up.

"Caboose, where did you get that?" Church interjected.

"I found it!" Caboose said proudly, squeezing the thing into a hug causing it to squeak like a chew toy. Church and Tucker approached to get a better look at the strange creature that Caboose was smothering.

It had a strange mask, sort of like a gas mask. Its bald little head made them think of a zombie or some really old man. Its body was small, maybe a foot and a half in height and covered in orange armor with a big hump on its back that came up as a sort of collar on the creature's armor. Its arms were about twice the length of its body. One was flailing around while the other was pinned in Caboose's hug.

"Hey, Caboose," Tucker said, "I think that's like an alien. Like Andy's friend?"

"You mean Fluffy?!" Caboose gasped, "I remember him. I liked him."

"...He tried to kill us," Tucker replied.

"He did? I don't remember that."

"Whatever," Church said, "Just get rid of that thing."

"But Churrrrch!"

"No. You can't keep it."

"Chuuuurrrrch!" Caboose whined.

"No! Now, get rid of it!"

"No!" Caboose cried, carrying his new pet back into the base defiantly.

Church and Tucker shared annoyed glances and followed Caboose into the base, dragging the alien after him. He propped it on the blue couch and pet its balding head happily. Each rough stroke caused its eyes to bulge and the rough growl bubbling at the back of its throat to ramp up a notch. Church would not have been surprised if the creature attacked.

Church then noticed that the little thing was suddenly staring intently at something on the coffee table. He stood up and wandered over following its gaze, finally noticing the sapphire shard they'd found a few days before.

They'd discovered it by the caves glowing with a low level radiation, or at least that's what Doc's scanners picked up. But then again green was the only hue Doc had so for all Church knew it could've just been a rock. Thankfully the medic read well below lethal doses so they were safe. It didn't do much other than give off a mild light so he didn't really care about it at all. Still…

It was at this moment that the little alien used the loose grip that Caboose had over him to lunge out from between the large soldier's armor-clad feet and mount the table to grab at the shard. As the grabbing hand got near the crystal, it vibrated quickly and violently, a vivid flash of cyan light filling the room.

"Fuck!" Church and Tucker shouted simultaneously shielding their eyes. The light was blinding and lasted for only a second but it was several before they could let their hands drop. Church however kept his up. Even as the glare was brightest he felt a pressure materialize against it.

Once his eyes adjusted he stared at his hand. In it rested the shard that seconds before had been on the table.

"What the hell?" he asked no one in particular.

"Whoa, dude!" Tucker exclaimed once he saw the shard in Church's hand, "How'd you do that?"

"…I…didn't." Church turned his gaze to the dazed alien lying on the table. He stood over it, glaring down. "Alright, you little freak. What are you doing here and why do you want this?"

The little creature shook its head, blinking up at Church. It leapt up and Church retreated as it waved its fist, shouting at him in a foreign language that sounded more like incoherent chattering.

"Okay, he doesn't speak English," Church mumbled.

The creature spotted the crystal in Church's hand and its beady little eyes went wide. Jumping to its feet, it charged at Church screeching a crazed alien battle cry.

"You little fucker!" Church shouted as the alien snatched the crystal from his hands and darted from the kitchen, cackling loudly.

Church chased after the alien as it scampered away. The little thing was just jumping off of the base as Church got to the top but the alien's stubby legs were no match for his long strides and quickly caught up.

Just as Church neared the creature, blue bloomed from the shard once more. He clutched at the creature before anything happened, launching forward and tackling the little alien just as the radiance blinded him and he felt the vibrating shard jab into his side, clenched inside the creature's hard knuckled punch.

As it dimmed, Church blinked his robotic eyes multiple times, letting the colors flood back. He looked around to see a very stunned Tucker looking down at him.

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" he asked.

"What?" Church asked, looking to see the alien pinned underneath him squealing in anger. He stood up making sure to keep the creature trapped. Somehow, someway, that shard transported them from outside, to inside. They were back in the base, sprawled under the kitchen table. "What the fuck is up with that crystal?"

Church wrestled it from the creature's grasp and kneeled down to look at him. "Alright, you're gonna have some questions to answer."

: - - - :

"Uhn…"

"Hey!" Donut shouted, "He's awake!"

Shorty mentally cringed at the loud and cheery voice that made his return to consciousness significantly more painful. Why was he so loud? The blue eyes fluttered open as Shorty came to.

"What?" Shorty mumbled.

"Wake up!" Donut shouted. Shorty winced again. He sat up, happy when his head didn't spin. His eyes adjusted to the light at the same time as his ears adjusted to Donut's voice and within a few minutes he was sitting up, drinking a glass of water and chattering loudly with Donut.

"It really hurt, too!" Shorty said, looking at the other team members who had wandered into the room earlier, "…because one minute I was running, and then BANG!—" he clapped his hands for emphasis, "—I was shot in the face!"

Grif raised an eyebrow at Shorty. As he recalled, he saw Shorty run forward, get shot in the leg and then hit a boulder and fall unconscious. After that, Simmons and Donut both rushed out to get the kid off of the course and get him into the disused medical bay. When they got him back he moaned something about a blue shard and Big Foot's cave. After three days of so called treatment, which consisted of paper and bathroom tissue bandages, the kid finally came around but seemed to be rather…different.

"Um…you were shot in the leg," the orange soldier replied.

"Well, it felt like my face!"

"That's because you hit your head on a boulder."

"Are you sure?" Shorty asked groping around his scalp where the make-shift bandages were tied. He felt around until he hit a sensitive lump on his head and he flinched, "Aha! A bump! I was shot in the face!"

"You weren't shot in the face!" Simmons finally snapped.

"Then how do you explain this remaining lump from where you drew out the bullet?!" Shorty said, pointing at the wrong side of his head, grinning widely with the belief that he won the conversation, "I win."

"…That's where you hit your head," Simmons retorted.

"Or where I got shot! In the face!"

"It's not worth the fight, man," Grif said, shrugging and leaving the bedroom.

Shorty looked around, grinning foolishly as Simmons followed Grif out of the small room. Donut was still there and Sarge had never bothered to come in. As far as Shorty knew, Sarge was still outside at the obstacle course. With a sudden urgency that made Donut jump, Shorty whirled around on his bed, pulling his legs up and twirling half way to face the pink-clad soldier.

"So how are you?!" he asked.

"I'm good!" Donut said, jumping onto the bed to sit next to his friend, "What about you?!"

"Fantastic!" Shorty replied, "A little bored, but still."

There was a small pause in the conversation, and after a couple minutes, Donut asked, "Wanna paint our nails?"

: - - - :

"Ah still think it's an evil blue shard of the Blues." Sarge mumbled, fingering the small shard that had come with Shorty to Blood Gulch.

"Makes sense, sir," Simmons added.

"Not really," Grif replied.

"Of course it makes sense," Sarge continued his rant, ignoring the two soldiers, "The Blues are never around, and then this kid comes up with a Blue shard to destroy us from the inside out. Yes, I can see right through his foolish plan!"

At that moment Donut and Shorty came walking in, Donut with bright pink fingernails and Shorty trying to rub the stuff on his own fingers off on his shirt behind him. Simmons stood up from where he was sitting next to Sarge, and addressed Shorty.

"Hey, where exactly were you before you ended up here?" he asked.

Shorty looked up quickly, hiding his painted fingernails behind his back and looking innocent, or at least trying to. He thought about Simmons' question for a minute, his face twisting from thought, to confusion, to frustration. "Well…I don't know," he mumbled, "I remember…coming here, and something about Big Foot, but that's all…Oh! Maybe I was Big Foot before I came here!"

Simmons simply stared in response. "I don't think so."

"Well…it's possible."

"Whoa now!" Sarge shouted, as his hand thrust forward as if it were being pulled by another force, "Evil blue crystal on the loose!"

The shard slipped from his hands and floated in the air like a hover-craft. The soldiers simply stared in disbelief as it slowly began to drift out of the room and out of the base.

"What the fuck was that?" Grif asked.

"I don't know, but we should follow it." Simmons said, motioning for the others.

"Good move, Simmons! Let's follow that Blue shard and expose the evil Blues once an' for all!" With excited resolve, Sarge bounded out of the room, following the floating crystal.

"Hang on!" Shorty shouted, "I gotta grab a few things!" With that, he ran out of the rec room and back into the bedroom that he and Donut shared. The remaining soldiers watched as the loud sounds of crashing and grunting came from the bedroom. Several items flew from the doorway into the wall.

"What is he doing in there?" Grif inquired.

Before anyone answered, Shorty came walking back with his hands full of things he apparently found in the bedroom. "Okay," he said, "We're ready!"

"What is all that stuff?" Donut asked.

"Let's see," Shorty said, looking at it, "Some extra clothes, just in case we don't get back tonight, some toothbrushes and toothpaste. Some nail polish, for obvious reasons. Pots and pans, for cooking. Notebooks and pens in case anyone wants to write some stuff down, and then we got some cups, deodorant, ketchup, a pack of gum, and a map of Peru!"

"Why would we need a map of Peru?" Simmons said hotly.

"In case we get lost!" Shorty said, as if the answer was completely obvious.

"…Whatever," Simmons said, "Look, let's go catch up with Sarge!"

"Yes, sir!"

"And you're leaving that stuff here, Shorty." Simmons left the room, followed by Grif and Donut.

"What! But we need this stuff!" Shorty stammered, trying to follow, stumbling out of the base with his arms full. As he made it near the ramp to the dusty ground, Simmons turned back, grabbed the boy's wrist and gave a big jerk to pull him forward. The stuff fell from his arms and with a yelp. Shorty soon caught up with the group, pursuing the mysterious floating shard.


	5. Explosions Go 'Boom'

******[Author's Note: Hey, eight months later, a new chapter! Surprise!**

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**Chapter V  
Explosions Go 'Boom!'**

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_With a quick smack to the back of his head, Church fell to the ground mid-sentence. He grunted in surprise and jumped back up, his robot body feeling no pain. He whirled around, looking frantically for Tex. He suspected the Omega AI had transferred from his helmet to hers._

_"Where'd he go? Where'd he go?" he cried, glancing at the woman in black armour, "Tex?"_

_"Church," Tex commanded, "Run."_

_It was true. Fear came at him like a shot to the stomach. O'Malley had transferred from one solder to another – Donut, Sarge, Simmons…all lay on the ground, struggling back to consciousness. Tex had bludgeoned each one in her crazed attempt to trap O'Malley inside her helm._

_"You have no idea what kind of trouble you are in!" Omega's deep voice echoed from his host. Tex took off in a sprint, shoving Church out of the way as she past. He stumbled back and stared in horror as she leapt up the board ramp and into the Pelican ship. She bent down mid-run, swooping up Wyoming's helmet and escaping to the bowels of the ship._

_Church was after her as soon as he regained himself. "Wait, Tex! You don't want to do this!" he shouted, urging his legs to move faster but the ship's loading ramp was already lifting off the ground. Things began moving too fast to get a coherent thought – Church merely acted on pure instinct._

_"Sheila, are you ready?" O'Malley asked, hopping into the pilot's seat and flipping switches to power the ship._

_"All systems online," Sheila's mechanically cool voice responded, "Ignition coils activated, starting thrusters." A haze of blue light flowed from the engines as the ship began to hover._

_"No!" Church cried, finally reaching the sealed loading ramp. He pounded furiously on it, hoping against all hope that it might slip open. He could feel his metallic hands beginning to disfigure from the heavy blows he threw at the ship._

_"Launch when ready!" O'Malley commanded, taking hold of the steering._

_"Please take your seats, launching in three…two…one." Gaining speed, the Pelican rose into the air._

_Church jumped after it, groping for something, anything before it was too far out of reach, but with no success. He switched on the radio desperately calling out._

_"Tex, don't do this!" he demanded, trying to sound intimidating, but he couldn't keep the panic out of his voice._

_"Lift off," Sheila announced as the ship rose further and further out of reach._

_"Goodbye," Tex whispered in her radio._

_The other soldiers had made it to their feet and stood behind Church in awe. He whirled around and leapt the few feet between them. "We have to stop her right now!" he cried, looking frantically at the others._

_Sarge glanced up at the ship, and then at Church. He snapped to attention and said cunningly, "No problem-o, Blue!" He switched on his radio, "Andy, you there?"_

_"I'm here, coach!" the bomb responded. He'd been left in the ship and was now sitting near the back of the cockpit behind O'Malley._

_Church turned his attention to his radio, "What's going on?"_

_Andy surveyed the scene. Tex stood from the pilot's seat, plugging a cord into the white helmet then connecting it to the terminal. Her fingers leapt across the keyboard and dropped again before lining up the monitor. "She's hooking up Wyoming's helmet to the computer," he relayed._

_"Ready for your job, soldier?" Sarge trumpeted, looking up to the ship while his plan unfolded deliciously in his mind's eye._

_"You bet!" Andy cried, rocking back in forth in anticipation._

_"Alright, son!" Sarge crowed dramatically, "Do what you were born to do. Detonate!"_

_"Hey!" Andy shouted, "You want me to start from ten or three? Come on, let's build it up a bit! Suspense, it'll kill 'em! Ten!"_

_Church felt as if someone had just taken a jack hammer to his stomach for the fifth time that day. He wheeled around on Sarge, savagely grabbing the Red leader by the shoulders and shaking him. "I told you to disable the ship—"_

_"Nine!"_

_"—not destroy it!" Church's voice cracked under pressure. It only made the Red leader giddier._

_"Eight!"_

_Sarge shrugged, giving a 'whatever' look under his helmet. "Oh well, score one for the Red Team."_

_"Seven!"_

_"What about my kid?" Tucker growled threatening, approaching opposite Church and brandishing his weapon, now remembering his alien-child was inside the ship along with O'Malley, Tex, and Andy._

_"Six!"_

_"Oh, right –" Sarge said nonchalantly._

_"Five!"_

_"—Score two."_

_"Four!"_

_Church grunted angrily and shoved Sarge, causing him to stumble back. The Blue leader used the momentum of the push to spin around and face the ascending ship. Though it was tempting, slowly peeling away Sarge's flesh would do nothing – his only chance was to stop Andy from detonating. He yelled into his radio, "Andy! Do not—"_

_"Three!"_

_"—detonate! Can you see her heading?" Church pleaded. It was too much. He could only watch as the ship that contained everything he'd risked rise further and further out of reach, on the verge of becoming a flaming ball and unable to stop it._

_"Two!" Andy's innards began swelling with heat in readiness for the explosion. Tex seemed not to notice from her seat._

_"DO YOU KNOW WHERE SHE'S GOING?" Church yelled desperately._

_"ONE!"_

_Andy let loose and exploded, consuming the ship in flames. Tex hardly had time to turn when they made contact with the Freelancer helmet. The ship never exploded. Instead it seemed to disintegrate around her in a blue-green flash of light. The ship had literally vanished, no shrapnel or debris falling to the ground or the crackle of flames on gasoline. It was just gone._

_On the ground the soldiers stood staring. Sarge grinned wide, debating on removing his helmet so the Blue's failure could be fully declared for everyone to see. Simmons seemed to show a unique interest in what had just happened, and Grif really didn't give a shit. Caboose didn't comprehend what had just happened. Tucker stared silently at the ground, while Church scanned the skies for the ship, both in disbelief of their losses._

_"...Tex?" Church uttered._

: - - - :

The five members of the Red Team rushed down the canyon, following the shard flying in front of them. Sarge led the pack, followed by Grif, Donut, Simmons, and Shorty. The sapphire crystal that had transported the newest member of the Red Team decided to up and leave, literally floating away. The Red Team naturally followed it, mostly out of curiosity and suspicion.

"I hope…you realize," Shorty shouted to the team, panting as he did so, "That if we get lost…out here…we'll be without previsions, and…it'll all…be Simmons' fault!" Shorty was new to the team; therefore he was about as physically fit as Grif, even if he wasn't as heavy-set.

"The base isn't even a mile away!" Simmons argued. He, unlike Shorty, was able to speak without hesitation since he was used to running at great distances due to Sarge's extreme training sessions.

"Yeah…and we're out…in the wilderness!" Shorty countered, wiping sweat from his forehead and still breathing heavily as he ran, "Which…means that…we don't even have overnight sup-…supplies!"

A sudden gasp came from Donut. He stopped and whirled on the soldier behind him. "Simmons!" he cried, "I think Shorty might be right! We should go back and get that stuff!"

"We'll be fine!" Simmons said haughtily, manoeuvring around Donut, neither stopping nor slowing his pace.

"You…don't know that!" Shorty continued, also running past Donut.

"Yes, I do!"

"I don't think…you understand the weight…of the situation, Simmons!" Shorty whined, "I mean…I could have been Big Foot, so…I think I…would know more than you…in this instance!"

"You were never Big Foot!"

"You don't…know that!"

"Shaddap, ladies!" Sarge yelled back to his soldiers, "Ah think someone's up ahead!"

Sure enough, up ahead the Blue Team was running toward the Reds from across the canyon, chasing a similar shard. As their eyes locked Shorty knew Sarge would consider it as part of their dastardly plan to destroy them. And then Sarge would turn on him, meaning he'd get yet another shot in the face.

"Aha!" Sarge shouted, whipping out his rifle, "I knew it was the Blues!"

"What the fuck is he talking about?" one of the Blue Team members asked, clad in teal armor.

Shorty examined them as they approached. The cobalt one in the lead ran just a bit more stiffly than the other team members. Behind him, the other four were clad in teal, royal blue, purple, and yellow respectively.

With sudden fire in his eyes, Sarge began shooting up a storm. "FIRE, MEN!"

The Red Team pulled out their weapons, Grif and Simmons held automatic rifles and Donut pulled out his pistol. It was then Shorty realized he didn't have a gun. In response the Blue Team pulled their weapons out, except for the purple one who pulled out a little green scanner thing and moved it around, pretending to do something important. Shorty decided to follow his lead, and held his hands in a gun shape.

"Bang!" Shorty shouted unconvincingly, trying to fit in with the other soldiers.

Through the shots and screams, the soldiers hardly noticed the two shards begin to vibrate as they neared each other. The closer they zoomed the brighter their glow became and the more intense the vibrations became.

The two shards collided.

The force at which they hit rocked the ground and the soldiers staggered for balance against the sudden shifting of the earth.

"Earthquake!" someone cried.

The soldiers were thrown violently to the ground. Rogue gunshots flew through the air and some grunted in pain when they landed wrong. Through the blinding light and rumbling ground, Shorty could see the two crystals slowly meld into one another. At first, the two shards alone were no bigger than his forefinger, but as one, they could have stretched across an entire palm. As the earthquake subsided, it fell to the ground harmlessly.

The Red and Blue soldiers slowly staggered up from where they had fallen in the grass. Their legs shook as they straightened up, still uneasy from the earthquake that had come from nowhere. Sarge however was up and aiming his shotgun within half a second.

"Wha'dya do, Blues?" he shouted, jamming the barrel of his gun toward the cobalt leader of the Blue Team.

"We didn't do anything!" Sarge's rival countered.

The Sergeant glanced at his fellow team members who were still struggling to get up, "Well c'mon, ladies! Battle Stations! Blue Destruction Plan D!"

"Yes, sir!" Simmons sprung into action and whacked Grif over the head with his assault rifle.

"Ow!" Grif moaned, collapsing once more. Donut gave an earsplitting scream and ran in circles behind the group. Sarge fired wildly at the blue-clad soldiers. Shorty shocked out of his confusion by the ringing of gun fire, squealed in fright and dived behind a nearby rock. The Blue team returned fire and the entire canyon was engulfed with the sound of ricocheting bullets. Sarge dashed toward the left canyon wall, dodging the oncoming fire with Simmons in close pursuit. Blue team stood their ground, remaining in formation to avoid the Red's attack.

"Donut!" Shorty shouted from behind the boulder, "What—" He couldn't get Donut's attention above the bullets his pink teammates womanly shrieks.

Suddenly, another explosion rocked the canyon. A ball of fire lit the sky, overpowering the light of the sun and blinding the small group of people. They were engulfed in heat and confusion and the battle became lost in a rain of shrapnel.

The force rocked Shorty back from his crouch and onto his back. He instinctively curled up, terrified by the loud sounds whirring around him as another rumble vibrated through the ground. He cowered until all that was left was the crackling of fire and groans of pain from the other soldiers.

Shorty tentatively opened his eyes, making a mental checklist to make sure he was okay. He felt no pain and he could move so he cautiously looked around. The fighting had stopped. Everyone was shocked into submission by the violent blast. A few hundred feet away lay a flaming hunk of metal, blackened but seemingly intact. Around it, chunks that had been pried loose were still rocking gently.

Finally he surveyed the various members of both teams had been knocked to their feet. The closest was Donut, seemingly out cold. Simmons was on his knees, nudging at the still form of Sarge with one hand and using his other to grip his thigh where blood was just barely visible through the matte of his maroon armour. Grif was just waking up from the earlier blow to his head; his helmet was laying a few feet away, dazed.

Shorty couldn't see the Blue Team but he assumed they were on the other side of the hunk of metal. He stood shakily and tried to make his way to where they were, hoping that everyone was alright. Only three of them were up. The yellow one was sitting on the ground, gripping her arm where a piece of shrapnel was just visible, and the royal blue one was curled up unconscious. When the three noticed Shorty they showed no signs of hostility, so he decided to ask, "What is it?"

The cobalt one was the first to speak. With a stunned tone, he replied, "Its Tex's ship."


End file.
